


sloppy seconds

by xSheepie



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Car Accidents, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19132012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSheepie/pseuds/xSheepie
Summary: A drive and a dream





	sloppy seconds

Kavinsky kicked Proko awake. "I'm bored." He was holding his phone.

Proko rubbed his eyes, trying to read the lit screen. Texts.

Proko rolled over, murmuring. "Wanna fuck?"

"I like where your head's at." Kavinsky pulled on jeans. "Nah, let's drive."

 _Read between the lines_. Proko thought. _He needs an audience._

Proko hated watching K chase Ronan, who the texts were undoubtedly from. He hated leaving the two of them alone even more though. It was in his make up to protect and crave and _ache_. He hated K for making him like this over again and again. Different and the same and fragmented and a little Ilya Prokopenko and a little Joseph Kavinsky and mostly dreamed traits that K forced into a shell that looked like a boy he'd forgotten.

Proko got out of bed dutifully and pulled a hoodie on, resentful and complacent. The drive took them out of the empty mcmansion district and over to the dark streets at the edge of town. The windshield was speckled with rain and the moon was tucked away from view. Even the stars seemed to not want to watch what was to happen. The black BMW was only visible because of the headlights which cut a swatch of light across the pavement, idling and dangerous. A shark that couldn't stay still for to long.

Proko could feel when K spotted him and clenched his teeth. He slid a hand over into K's lap- no movement, just pressure. Reminding him of who was sitting beside him. There by K's design. The dark warmth of K's car tended to calm him but tonight the purr of the engine fueled the restlessness building in him. When they started driving it didn't matter much though. Kavinsky was reckless where Lynch was precise. Their driving was unique to them as their fingerprints. Lynch raced to win, K did it for the elevated company.

They went out of town and past the forest, side by side stupidly trusting no one else to be out this late. K flickered his head lights and then shut them off, cackling as Proko hissed in a breath and squeezed his thigh. Proko looked at K and K looked at Ronan and neither of them saw the bend in the road when the lightning cracked dry against the sky. Lynch left them behind in the split second of darkness.

"Joey!" Proko yelled in alarm as K gunned it, yanking the wheel to the left. The car skidded sickeningly. Then it all came to a standstill that was much worse.

 

Ronan unbuckled Kavinsky's seat belt and pulled him awkwardly out of the window of the flipped Mitsubishi.

He groaned weakly as he peeled open his eyes. “Lynch?”

“What the fuck man?” Ronan sounded panicked.

Kavinsky’s head was bleeding from where it had bounced off the steering wheel. He raised a hand and touched the cut, his hand coming away wet with blood. “Fuck.”

Ronan saw Proko first.

Kavinsky followed his eyeline to where he lay face down on the pavement on a blanket of broken glass. Kavinsky struggled to get up and over to him. He’d been thrown nearly fifteen feet from the smoking car. He rolled him over. Proko’s face was mangled, glass imbedded in his skin. He wasn’t breathing.

“Proko. Fuck. Ilya.” Kavinsky cradled his face. Kavinsky dragged his hands down to Proko's throat, looking for a pulse. His chest wasn't rising. His eyes stayed closed.

The lightning splashed against the sky but this time nothing changed.

Proko was dead. Again. Why did he keep making Proko bleed?

"Should I call an ambulance?" Ronan asked, half knowing the answer.

"No he's... he's just a dream." K stayed kneeling by his side, hands pressed against his still chest.

Ronan nodded. He knew doctors wouldn't be able to help. "Let's get him in my car. When they fall alseep… "

"He's not asleep. I fucking killed him."

"Kavinsky."

"Leave us alone."

"You shouldn't stay out here alone-"

"I'm not alone!" K snapped. "Just fuck off Lynch."

By the time K had dragged Proko off the road and into the grass, Ronan had left. Kavinsky lay in the grass after taking a neon pill, falling quickly and with purpose. He'd done this enough to get in and out before the ticking beasts came sniffing.

The trees hated him, he knew. He took too much, created to much magic. He claimed what wasn't his.

They hated when he came for Proko the most though. However, it was the one thing he knew he'd never be able to stop taking.


End file.
